Treasure Hunt — 100 Word Wednesday Week 88

Title:  Treasure Hunt
Source:  100 Word Wednesday: Week 88
Word count: 100 words

Woman-at-book-stand

Image by Bikurgurl

“Are they’re watching us?” Meghan asked, “Is it even there?”

“You read the clue,” Harvey said. “See her? No one will suspect her.” Harvey nodded at the old woman walking towards them.

“No, please? I hate taking over old people’s bodies,” Meghan shivered as she spoke.

Meghan guided the woman’s body to the bookstand and rummaged in the back, right corner. She felt a thin, round stick and secreted it into the fold of a magazine she made the woman purchase. As Meghan walked past Harvey’s hiding spot, the wand slipped to the ground and rolled into his waiting hands.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Daily Quote

Jack Sparrow quote

A little Friday fun with our friend Jack Sparrow and an impossible choice.

Which do you choose?

  • A brilliant writer whose works are lost in the sands of time never to be read by any living being.

or

  • A horrible writer ridiculed as such and known the world over.

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Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer

Daily Quote

Anne McCaffrey quote

I have spent a lot of time with short stories this month, and this quote made me laugh. I never considered creating a novel might be as easy as a doodle as opposed to a major undertaking. Perhaps I have been looking at this the wrong way round. Could creating a novel be as “straightforward” as creating a doodle? Perish the thought.

Excuse me, I need to find my doodle paper.

Do you have any perceptions you discovered were the wrong way round?

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Daily Quote

Tobias Wolff quote

One reason I have concentrated on Flash fiction and short stories is to practice my writing. When I attempt to write a story in 100 words, there is no room for fluff. The writing must be concise and each word I choose is carefully considered. I often spend an inordinate amount of time editing in comparison to the initial writing. Now I am not claiming anything I write is all that great, but I do believe it is improving.

How do you ensure your writing improves?

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Gone — FFfAW Challenge – 182th

Title:  Gone
Source: Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers
Word count: 165 words

Foggy-window-deserted-street

This week’s photo prompt is provided by wildverbs. Thank you wildverbs!

It was cold outside, and the Jeep’s heater didn’t work. Condensation formed on the window while I waited. I rubbed my hands together, leaned over and blew. My breath warmed them for an instant. With my right hand, I smeared the foggy window. I needed to watch the street, needed proof she wasn’t there.

I tucked my hands under my armpits and hunched over the steering wheel. My mind played tricks on me and I heard her call my name. She wasn’t there. I couldn’t admit the truth. Not yet. I didn’t want to feel, not the heartache or the choking in my throat. I didn’t want to barter with the devil. I’d bring her back for the price of my soul.

Hot tears fell on my checks. Did I have the strength to carry on, or did I let the jeep’s carbon monoxide take away my pain? They’d tell me I’d make it, and I’d find somebody new. For now, I waited and prayed.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Daily Quote

George Saunders Quote

I relate to the idea of exploring topics that make readers consider something they may not have noticed in the past. Short stories lend themselves to that purpose. Short formats can put one idea, one event, one feeling under a microscope and blow it up into an image we can clearly see.

What topic do you have under your microscope today?

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Yellow Rain

Rain fall trees abandoned deck furniture

Photo credit: jonhyblaze on Visualhunt.com / CC BY

Autumn crept into our lives, a welcome relief to the steaming summer sun. Guests abandoned the lodge and staff made plans for new adventures in faraway places.   A few guests, reluctant to acknowledge the change, clung to the lodge and the summer events that slowly faded into memory.

Brennan’s contract included closing for the season. He had been eager to arrive, caught up in the excitement and anticipation of the brochure’s promises.  Now, he found himself resentful of the summer ghosts, who had changed venues and left him behind.

“I can leave Friday,” he said to himself with increasing frequency as the week slowly advanced. Brennan tore through the closing procedures, hoping to fill the remaining time. On the deck last night, they performed a final farewell, toasting summer’s end into the small morning hours. Today, they vanished along with the sun. The clouds and perpetual drizzle bid them goodbye.

Brennan performed one last check, testing locks and making everything secure. He had forgotten the furniture on the deck. As he worked the rain plip-plopped on fading leaves and bounced on the soaked wooden deck boards. The leaves quivered from the onslaught. Sagging beneath the added weight, they maintained their precarious position until a light breeze severed the last connection and they tumbled to the ground.

Impatient, and ready to leave, Brennan finished his list.  His luggage stowed in the last car in the parking lot he was on his way. Brennan never looked back as his car sped through the forest of yellow rain, attempting to catch his future.

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Daily Quote

Ray Bradbury quote

I am a numbers person. I like to break things down into the simplest of forms. This quote does that for me. It keeps the importance of keeping a daily writing schedule, a daily goal foremost in my mind and on my priority list.

What devices do you use to keep writing a priority?

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Breaking Bonds — 3 Line Tales, Week 136

From Sonya’s 3LineTales at Only100Words.
You can find the original prompt here. Thank you, Sonya.

girl on deck attached to an air stream trailer

photo by Tyler Nix via Unsplash

I have shed the shackles, the ton of should and must and expectation I carried on my back.

The air streams through my hair, tearing at my skirt as if it were a sail.

I spread my arms wide, unencumbered, I break my bonds and fly.

______________________

Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Surrounded

Back of policemen in yellow vests that read Police

Photo by Daniel Tafjord on Unsplash

I closed the door, locking it behind me before tossing my keys on the table. First stop, the fridge for a beer. I had earned one for surviving a miserable day. I wanted to veg in front of the television. I kicked my shoes under the coffee table and dropped on the couch. Opening the bottle, I got a nose full of hoppy goodness and took a sip. My brother had taken up brewing beer, and this batch was good.

I must have fallen asleep. The room was dark, and a loud pounding shook the front door.

“Open the door. Come out with your hands up,” the garbled megaphone voice instructed.

“Ah, shit,” I said to the empty room.

I flipped on a light and shook my brain free from the last tendrils of sleep.

“We know you’re in there. Come out and no one gets hurt,” the megaphone voice said.

I looked around the room and considered my options. The back door led into a garage piled high with boxes. Perhaps a window might work?

“We’ve got you surrounded. Come out now.”

Defeated, I walked to the front door and flipped the lock.

“Don’t shoot,” I said and slowly opened the door.

Police lights lit the neighborhood, flashing red and blue beacons. A spotlight aimed at my face blinded me and prevented me from identifying the policemen I knew were behind all this.

“Ok assholes, now what?”

“Keep your hands over your head and step forward. Slowly,” the megaphone voice said.

I walked directly towards the light in the center of the cop circle.

“You bastards, I was asleep on the couch,” I said into the darkness.

To my right, I someone chuckle.

“Go ahead. Laugh. This isn’t funny. You’re gonna be sorry.”

I heard laughter float around the circle. I was feet from the light.

“That’s far enough. Stop there,” the megaphone voice said.

I kept walking. I could see the hand holding the spotlight and moving fast I grabbed hold, twisting the cop’s arm behind his back. I placed my index finger against his temple and yelled, “Bang.”

“Your dead Davy,” I said then released him. More laughter erupted.

The cop holding the megaphone was doubled over, laughing. When I reached him, I planted my feet and punched his shoulder with all my weight behind the blow.

“I suppose this was your idea, Watson?”

Watson rubbed his shoulder and tried to talk between snorts.

“Sorry Chief. Thought you could use a pick me up after today.”

I tried to suppress the grin I knew was threatening to explode.

“Get to work. Anyone here in five minutes receives a reprimand. You’re gonna give my neighbors heart failure,” I said in the sternest voice possible.

Police lights turned off and car doors slammed as they dispersed.

“Watson?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Is everyone ok?”

“I think so Chief. This may have helped.”

“Fine,” I looked at Watson. No trace of fun and games remained. “Never let this happen again.”

“Yes, sir.” Watson extinguished the spotlight.

I checked my watch, “Since you’re technically off duty, why don’t you come in. Your latest brew is damn good.”

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer